


Words

by Winter_Roses



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Future Fic, I blame late night wine drinking and sappy music, I have no idea where this came from, POV Third Person Omniscient, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-29 23:07:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/692591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winter_Roses/pseuds/Winter_Roses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knows just as well as everyone else that the only reason he will be marrying Shireen Baratheon is because no one else will. And oddly, this does not perturb him. He does not think anyone else will have him either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words

**Author's Note:**

> Hmm, what to say... This is pretty much my first attempt at seriously writing fanfiction, this idea just kept nagging me until I wrote it down. I know it's not nearly as good as most of the other stories on here but I felt like publishing it for some unknown reason. Like I said, it was written very fast so please forgive any mistakes. I may think about making this a series if people respond well.

The war has been over for going on three years now, a long hard battle that ended with Stannis Baratheon being crowned Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm. The remaining Stark’s, Sansa, Bran, Arya and Jon, have returned to WInterfell to rebuild what is left of their home. And one day, in the midst of their rebuilding, Rickon and Osha stumble in through the gates, a feral looking shaggydog at Rickon’s heels. 

Rickon as a young man is many things, he is wild, partly from his time on Skagos and partly from the harshness of growing up without a family. He is uncomfortable, Sansa tries her hardest to fashion him into a noble Lord (because there is still a childlike part of her that thinks Cat and Ned and Robb will also come strolling through those gates someday and she knows how horrified her mother would be to see little Rickon in such a state, especially since there is nothing she can do about Arya). His anger is almost palpable ( They all look at him as if he should remember, he was only three when he had to leave Winterfell, the only memories he has of this place are of the Tully red of Lady Stark’s hair and the blue of her eyes and the faint smell of rosewater. When he sees Sansa for the first time he drops to his knees, wraps his arms around her slim waist and buries his head in her belly calling her mother. When she corrects him he is heartbroken and he does not speak again for 2 weeks). He is afraid (He does not know these people, he thinks to himself often that the wild cannibals of Skagos were not near as frightening as these people that call themselves his kin). He feels betrayed ( He remembers Bran, his elder brother is older now, more handsome and worn than all those years ago but he remembers. He remembers that Bran left him, he remembers thinking him dead, he remembers feeling alone and scared even with Osha holding is hand.) 

It takes some time for him to settle in at Winterfell, it is, after all much different from Skagos. He does not know whether to enjoy or loathe not having to hunt and fight for his food. But he does know that he hates being called My Lord almost as much as he loves sleeping in a bed. His mild comfort doesn’t last long though when Bran, now Lord of Winterfell, announces that King Stannis wishes to wed his only daughter, Shireen, to Rickon. He is, of course, forced to accept. Sansa comes to him many times to stress how important this marriage will be for the North. But he knows just as well as everyone else that the only reason he will be marrying Shireen Baratheon is because no one else will. And oddly, this does not perturb him. He does not think anyone else will have him either. They will make quite the pair, he is sure. 

Princess Shireen is older than him by four years, a woman-grown who would have, surely, been married off if it were not for her greyscale. When she arrives at Winterfell, with only her guards and handmaidens, Rickon finds himself very curious.  
When she greets his brothers and sisters (the words still feel odd on his tongue) she is polite and graceful, just as a Princess should be. When she reaches him she courtesies and her voice is quiet, she is also careful not to look him in the eye. Somehow he knows that she does not want his, just as he doesn’t. But she also knows, just as well as he, that they will have no say in the matter.

Princess Shireen proves to be a curious creature, he spends a lot of time watching her, she does not talk much and on the rare occasions when she does speak her voice is soft. He notices that she does not flinch when the girls at court stare and whisper. She does not enjoy reading (like Bran), or sewing (like Sansa), and the one time Arya attempted to teach her to duel turned out to be a disaster. But she does quite enjoy playing the harp and drawing. Very curious indeed. 

They do not talk much, or at all really, other than the polite pleasantries she extends in passing they ignore each other, almost skillfully, Rickon notices. But he continues to watch, and as time passes things become different. When he sees that she has had a particularly bad day he sends Shaggydog to her, the normally gruff direwolf positively preens under Shireen’s attention. He begins to leave her little gifts, a crown made of winter roses on the post of her bed or discreet requests to the kitchens that more honeycakes be served when he notices how fond she is of them.  
The first time he approaches her it is sunny, the wind smells of roses and stale bread. He spots Shireen in the Godswood, sitting peacefully against the large tree. He does not think he has ever seen something so beautiful. It is as if something takes over him as he strides over to her and plops down ungracefully in the dirt next to her. She looks at him, her sad, blue eyes wide in surprise but she says nothing and neither does he.  
They spend time in the Godswood together almost everyday, never talking. It is a week and a half before more progress is made. The day is not sunny like their first, the sky is still dark from a storm passed the day before Rickon can see that Shireen’s dress will be ruined with mud but she does not seem to mind so he decides not to waste words mentioning it. He does not know how it happens but suddenly his head is in her lap and a gasp of surprise falls from her lips. 

She starts to talk to him then, telling him all sorts of things. She does all of the talking, never once stopping for him to reply because she (unlike his siblings or any of the others in Winterfell) understands that he won’t…Cant even. She tells him about her life in Storms End, he learns that she is so quiet due to her lonely existence. He learns that she has had only one friend, her sweet cousin Edirc, and she smiles fondly as she thinks of him.  
There are times when Rickon will hum in response to something that she says or his lips will twitch into a small smile as she strokes his wild hair. And he knows that one day he will do this for her, he will comfort her with his words as well as his hands. He knows that one day he will tell her about his time on Skagos, (something that he has not and will not do with anyone else), but he also knows that it is not yet that day. 

Two moons before their wedding date they are in their spot, Rickon has his head buried in the warmth of Shireen’s skirts and he looks up at her, his Tully blue eyes shine of happiness, something that he can not remember having felt since he was able to lie in his lady-mother’s arms. He reaches his hand up to the left side of her face and touches a part of her that no one, not even her own Lady-Mother, has ever touched. The skin is dry and damaged under his fingers but he does not care, he trails his rough fingertips over every inch of the scarred flesh until he reached the place where it ends. He wants to tell her that she is beautiful, he wants to tell her that this is not a part of her that he choses to ignore or is disgusted by, it is a part of her and so he loves it. He wants to tell her that he loves her. But he can’t. Not yet. And as he looks into her eyes, shining just as bright as his, he knows that she is aware, and he knows that she loves him too. Some things do not need to be said.


End file.
